A slight way off the road, in Rishikesh, a set of stairs ran down to a secluded Ghat, waiting for us like an old man waits for wanderers, hoping that they have a few moments to spare. We did have those few moments to spare, and so we stepped away from the planned route, and went down the ghat. She was there, at the bottom of those stairs; one look at her majestic charm, and I knew why people respected The Ganga, and loved her so.

As was customary at all ghats, a few steps separated us from the gushing river below. Each step I took, the river seemed to sigh back, as if nothing pleased her more than having me beside her – like old friends catching up after a long time.

My friends joined me; an old man sat and lit a beedi while observing us; my friends took about a zillion pictures of each other, of me, and of the river – but I was so mesmerized by the indefinable attraction the river held, that I failed to notice most of it.

The silt from the river had been deposited on the steps, and the places the river had visited were all marked out; like familiar footprints on wet sand.

Soon, it was time for us to leave for Harki Pauri, another ghat on the banks of the Ganges. I didn’t want to leave this new friend so soon, but as my old friend put it very rightly, the more time I spent there, the more I’d want to linger on.

With one final look at the river, we left, while the murmur of the river followed us. I wanted to return, and desperately cling on to a few more moments, and was looking for an excuse to run back. In a flash, I had the excuse. I wanted the name of the ghat we had visited, and since I didn’t remember it, I had to turn back.

Telling my friends to carry on (of course, with a bit of resistance from their side), I turned back and ran to the ghat. Down the steps, almost slipping, I dipped one hand quickly into the ice-cold water, and a smile escaped my lips.

In my haste, I had failed to notice the old man sitting there, still smoking his beedi. He was observing me, and had seen the smile on my face that reflected the strange calm spreading inside me. He took a long drag of the beedi, exhaled, and said, “Haan beta, ek ajeeb sa sukoon milta hai.”

P. S. The name of the ghat was Sri Vishwanath Ghat, and it had been inaugurated in August, 1947. I knew this all along.

Part Two: The Last Look

Harki Pauri is one of the most famous ghats of Haridwar. Thousands throng this place daily, and during the peak hour of the Aarti, it becomes almost impossible to see anything but human figures all around.

It was at Harki Pauri that I met the Holy Ganga again. I knew I was in love the moment I saw the river. Little green leaf-baskets, each of them decorated with rose petals, marigold petals, a single lotus, and one diya, floated downstream, gently rocking along rhythmically, dancing to the waves caused by the river’s flow.

One step down, two steps down, and the water welcomed my toes. I groped around in the murky water, and with my friend’s help, finally managed to go down two steps, and was knee-deep in the water.My feet were numb with cold, my jeans were soaked with the river, and I was standing in a strong current, and yet I knew I never wanted to get out.

Nightfall was coming, and we had to make our way back to the hotel. By this time, it seemed every one of us had somehow been infused with that intoxicating something this river held in great quantities. As one, we all sat down on the stairs leading down to the ghat, to catch the last few glimpses of the river before we left.

Finally, we got up to leave. The narrow lanes back to the bridge leading to the auto stand allowed a few flashes of the river I’d begun to adore. Between the buildings, through cracks in the walls, I could see her flowing beyond. A few final steps over the bridge, and we had reached the rickshaw stand. It really was time to say goodbye.

As the rickshaw slowly navigated the streets of Haridwar, the night life on the banks of Ganga greeted us from afar. Soon, however, these few sights were all behind us, and I had already begun to miss her.

We came across a bridge, a surprise the little town had sprung up for me. The river gushed on from below, and even over the hubbub of traffic, and the crinkle of the rickshaw chain, I could hear the river whispering three magical words to me. “Come back soon.”

Pics might take a little time to be put up out here... thora sa wait karna padega.

Waiting to read your bit about the trip you had... :)

And dude, forget the writing... this is one place that you really should go visit. I never thought that I, being just how restless I am, could just sit somewhere so calmly and stare at the river, for so long! I surprised myself there... hehe

Yeah, I know I'm thin. And also, I've tried everything... and trust me, everything... to gain a little weight. Now I'm just used to it :)

Cheers...

P.S. Me happy to be back too, although one part of me still wants to go back to that ghat...

@ Anupriya... The trip started out on a very different setting altogether. Never really seen Ratul drive the way he did that morning... man, it was scary! After that though, his hangover was damn funny... hehe.

I wish we had gone to Chandni Chowk though. We did waste a lot of time sitting and doing nothing at Kashmere Gate... but still, no worries :)

I dunno about you, but I still want to go back. I always used to say at the end of every trip that I want to stay on... this time, however, I really meant it. Had I been on my own, I don't think I'd have come back :)

hey.. i don't know what it is about rivers, but they are truly mesmerizing. It's as though you have some bygone relationship with them. ur post has well expressed it. My last post was also about a river. not sure if you read it, take a look if u get a chance. nice one here :)

Hi Arnab My 1st visit here and I loved my stay.Your descriptions has made the holy river sound all the more beautiful and the way you have connected with her is very touching.Guess I'll have to be a regular visitor.keep writingtake care

@ aastha... Even I don't know what it is about rivers... especially this one. Never really experienced that particular feeling with any other river before...

I don't think I've had the chance to read that post, haven't been keeping up to date with the blogging world these days. There are a lot of things that keep happening, been busy basically... :) Will catch up with them hopefully sometime soon... Cheers...

Beautiful...I always luvd the way you narrate things..and this was awesome..completely..I felt like Im standing at the bank of Ganges and observing you ppl :)..seriously superb Arnab :)I hv never being 2 Ganges..but yes..someday I ll make it

@ Satyu... Thanks :) Do go and see the Ganga sometime, it's one of the most beautiful rivers I've ever seen. You gotta see it's beauty to really believe it. I still want to catch one of the buses and go away there, for one more day...

@ Mahesh... Hmm, now where have I heard that line?? :P Hehehe... I've been like this ever since I've been concious. That's one thing that somehow hasn't really changed for me, so I don't bother much about it anymore. I think the world worries about it enough already :P

And no, I'm not 6 ft. Do I look that tall in the pic?? I'm 5'9", not that tall actually...

This post itself is so beautiful, it makes me wanna actually go up there n see her....I was in Banaras years bk, when I was in the 7th grade....had a gala time bathing in the Ganges. Would love to relive all that again.Lucky you !

Hello! Dear, Your post is extremely nice . The serenity is reflecting in every word. I am of Varanasi & so I am aware of the feelings near the holy river Ganga. A spectacular post. I loved it & would love to read your other posts.

Good Luck For next posts......

Keep Smiling....... I would love to have your response on my blog, so DO VISIT......I'll be eagerly waiting for your comment.

as usual well written!! loved it... strangely your post reminds me of lesser spots like a rocky bank on the teesta in sikkim, or nice lil boat ride on the hughli with the feet dipped in the river, or maybe the banks of beas... somehow they all have had a calming effect on me, and I still go back to them. in fat, before leaving for masters, i did visit sikkim and sat on the river bank for sometime, before i had to leave for an unknown future.

Here I am keeping my promise of visiting you. I feel so sad that I missed so much for so long. Read all available posts. You write well. Hope you are planning to have collection of short stories published. I really look forward to that. Each had it's own unique theme. Keep writing.

@ Jack... Thanks for the wonderful comment. I don't know if I'll be able to keep posting stuff here that often here nowadays or not... depends on quite a few things. Do drop by in case I write something though...

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About Me

I'm Arnab Majumdar, a Weekend Blogger from New Delhi. I like to write, go on long drives through my city, and occasionally go planespotting, whenever I can. I'm an amatuer photographer. I'm a wannabe artist who can't see too well. I am a dreamer, because life for me seems too... real. I write simply for the fun of it, nothing more, nothing less. Have fun reading my stuff, and do comment on them as well.